With the NZ International Film Festival in full swing once again, Flicks writers are giving their first impressions on what they’re seeing in the form of bite-sized mini-reviews. This blog will keep updating through the festival, so keep checking back and take the time to share your thoughts with us in the comments – and get out to see some of these films!
Click on a title below to go straight to the review or scroll down to browse through the list.
A – E
The 5th Eye | After the Storm | Beware the Slenderman
Captain Fantastic | Chimes at Midnight | The Clan
Elle | Equity | Everybody Wants Some
F – L
A Flickering Truth | Gimme Danger | Graduation
The Greasy Strangler | Green Room
The Handmaiden | High-Rise | Hotel Coolgardie
I, Daniel Blake | The Innocents | Land of Mine | Life, Animated
Lo and Behold: Reveries of the Connected World | The Lure
M – R
McCabe and Mrs. Miller | Midnight Special
The Music of Strangers | Nuts! | One-Eyed Jacks | Operation Avalanche
Personal Shopper | Poi E: The Story of Our Song | The Red Turtle
The Rehearsal
S – Z
Suburra | Swiss Army Man | Things to Come | Toni Erdmann
A Touch of Zen | Under the Shadow | Unlocking the Cage | A War
Weiner | Wild | Zero Days
The 5th Eye
I needed to be educated about New Zealand’s place on the mass surveillance chess board, and The 5th Eye does a damn good job of detailing that pawn. It may not have the artistic flash to boost it beyond the realms of NZIFF, TV and VOD, but Errol Wright and Abi King-Jones have assembled a concise political punch that demands every Kiwi’s attention. Being intrigued by the courageous (and partly hilarious) tale of the Waihopai Three’s operation, angered by John Key’s patronising diversion tactics on the matter, and mournful over the incredible work of the late Campbell Live, this is a dynamic watch.
LIAM MAGUREN
After the Storm
Whether he’s following a father trying to connect with his parents years after losing his brother (Still Walking) or a child looking to make sense of his mother and father’s recent divorce (I Wish), you can’t deny Kore-eda Hirokazu’s skill at unpicking family mechanics. But the warmth he usually brings to his films evaporates a bit with After the Storm, which follows a divorced father with a bad gambling and a toxic cling to his glory days as a proven author. The film mines a good about of subtle comedy from how much of a loser he is (the great Kirin Kiki gets the most digs as his hard-case mother), but he’s not an easy person to sympathise over.
LIAM MAGUREN
Beware the Slenderman
Documentary about two preteen girls who attempted to murder their friend to gain the favour of a sinister internet meme called The Slenderman. Created by Eric Knudsen, The Slenderman is an unnaturally tall faceless man wearing a black suit often with tentacles or extra arms growing out of his back. Alternating between sad and disturbing, this doco tells the story of the girls, their families and touches on the creation of the Slenderman mythos as part of the Creepypasta internet community. I was disappointed that there wasn’t more focus on the latter but overall I liked the film and was seriously creeped out in parts.
ALAN HOLT
Captain Fantastic
It’s not a superhero movie, but on some level, maybe it is. Viggo Mortensen stars as a back-to-basics Dad, raising his kids deep in the woods, way off the grid. When his wife commits suicide, her kooky family set off on a road trip to carry out her wishes and prevent a Christian funeral. In terms of tone and style, think feel-good, post-modern family fun in the Little Miss Sunshine vein. Writer/Director Matt Ross’ narrative doesn’t hold together till the third act, but it’s an entertaining journey, in the company of a compelling cast, led by a magnetic Mortensen.
ADAM FRESCO
Chimes at Midnight
If part of a Film Festival’s job is to remind us of forgotten greats, then job done. Released in 1965, now lovingly restored, Chimes at Midnight is one of the greatest celluloid Shakespeare adaptations. A stupendous rendering of Henry IV parts 1 and 2, with Welles’s magnificently flawed Falstaff to the fore. The battle scenes remain gritty as hell, the comedy bawdy and bold, the narrative by turns wickedly funny, heartbreaking, dramatic and, ultimately, tragic. A masterclass in monochrome and, after Citizen Kane, Welles’ second slam-dunk movie masterpiece.
ADAM FRESCO
Full disclosure: I zoned out 50% of the time at Chimes at Midnight. I was – in part – feeling the last-day-of-the-festival fatigue (I was also – in part – hungover), so I really don’t have much I can legitimately say about the film. I can say, however, that this is the only piece of Shakespeare I’ve ever legitimately thought was funny thanks mainly to the loquacious mocking of Flagstaff’s size (picture Orson Welles after eating Willy Wonka’s blueberry chewing gum).
LIAM MAGUREN
The Clan
A regular festival treat is discovering a fascinating true story from a country you don’t normally get them from, but wish you did. Such is the case with The Clan, but the fascination it inspires is entirely morbid and disturbing. As great as this’d be as a documentary, I’m thoroughly happy to have learned about this in the dramatic form. It’s a chilling look inside a family that made a career out of evil, anchored by an unsettling performance from Guillermo Francella as the patriarch. The ’80s setting gives it extra stylistic delights like a shit-hot soundtrack, but this is a very dark, troubling film.
DANIEL RUTLEDGE
Elle
Even though Paul Verhoeven’s Elle features a scene where the titular rape victim (the incredible Isabelle Huppert) is seen shopping for pepper spray, but decides to beef up her defensive arsenal with a mini pickaxe, the film rarely behaves like your average rape-revenge fare. Characterising it as a thriller is a bit limiting, if not inaccurate, as Verhoeven’s decision to oscillate between bouts of nauseating, pulverising brutality and mordant, breezy French class satire like he’s flipping an on on/off switch makes for a more complex, deliberately queasy provocation than most of its type can achieve. It’s a film that burns the rule book on taste and social strictures, allowing its protagonist to process trauma on her own subversive terms. Too saggy in places — there’s maybe one subplot too many — but a willfully incendiary and thorny work that shows Verhoeven, 77 at the time of Elle‘s premiere, hasn’t lost any of his barbed button-pushing proclivities.
AARON YAP
Paul Verhoeven may be 78, but he’s as eager as ever to find an audience’s taboos and proceed to poke at them for 2 hours. Elle begins in media res with an horrific attack on Isabelle Huppert, but her reaction to the crime is just one of many plot threads that contribute to our understanding of this complex woman. It’s as outrageous as its director intends, but he’s sure to explore his subject properly and never diminishes the severity of what he depicts. Verhoeven can’t help but provoke, but he’s delivered a film with real nuance.
TONY STAMP
How the shit does Elle work so goddamn well? I’m stumped.
LIAM MAGUREN
Equity
I raise my hands in praise of this Wall Street thriller for gifting Anna Gunn (Breaking Bad) a juggernaut role as an investment banking titan. Director Meera Menon uses the interior and exterior geometry of the business quarters and freezing blue lighting to superb effect, embedding the film with a cold and calculating presence that engulfs The Money Game. It’s a pity the ending falls limp and that the biggest manipulators turn evil with the subtlety of a ‘60s James Bond villain.
LIAM MAGUREN
Everybody Wants Some!!
Count on Richard Linklater to make macho jocks likeable and human. This three-day tour through the eyes of an ‘80s freshman manages to squeeze all the fun of college drinking and rooting and bantering while keeping a self-aware eye on the flaws and amusing observations of these masculine stereotypes. The standout dude has to be Glen Powell, who is a triple threat combo of Ryan Gosling, Littlefinger from Game of Thrones, and the spare bag of charisma Robert Downey Jr. left behind.
LIAM MAGUREN
A Flickering Truth
Peitra Brettkelly’s documentary about an expat’s quest to save the filmic history of Afghanistan via its crumbling film archive, amidst the chaos and dust of war, is remarkable on so many levels. In every frame, character and within each celluloid discovery the truth of the country’s history comes alive whilst the people at the archive prove even more fascinating. FIlm fest gold.
PAUL CASSERLY
Gimme Danger
God bless the fucking Stooges. Jim Jarmusch plays documentarian with a soft touch; barring a few stylistic flourishes, his involvement seeming to be fan of the band first, filmmaker second. Unsurprisingly, it’s Iggy Pop’s gift of the gab that does most of the heavy lifting, alongside plenty of archival content. Both dear, departed, Ashetons appear plenty, too, and thankfully we’re spared the usual roll call of celeb talking heads (I’m looking at you, Dave Grohl). Funny, fascinating, and while it might not dive too deep, essential for rock n rollers.
STEVE NEWALL
Graduation
This measured dramatic pic looks at graft and corruption at the very low end of the scale. Set in rundown contemporary Romania, it’s a bleakly bureaucratic society, a banal Brazil, if you will. As we follow a well-intentioned father bend the rules to help his daughter, Graduation introduces a cast of characters for whom dishonesty is not just a human constant, but a daily necessity. Intriguing in its normalcy, if not essential viewing.
STEVE NEWALL
Acclaimed Romanian drama which adds a grim but engrossing entry into the “Father who would do anything for his daughter” genre. Tangled webs are woven, with the best of intentions, and (spoiler) things don’t quite go to plan.
MATTHEW CRAWLEY
A seemingly random assault shoulder charges the first domino in a dramatic chain that collapses the barely-held-together family life of a father who just wants his daughter to get an opportunity to study anywhere but Romania. The plot is well constructed for collapse as dirty tactics are applied to exam entrances and double lives are revealed, though the demolition itself feels far too controlled to elicit any real sense of catastrophe. Nevertheless, this is airtight self-destruction cinema.
LIAM MAGUREN
The Greasy Strangler
A father/son disco-touring, romantic rivaling, grease-smeared, strangling tale, Jim Hosking’s The Greasy Strangler is revolting, demented, absurd, grotesque, vile and gleefully puerile. Think John Waters’ gross-out midnight movie fare, replete with sexual organs, deviant behavior and vile goings-on. If the title makes you queasy, best give this bad taste bonanza a miss. Sick, twisted and repetitious, it puts the nausea in ad nauseam. I squirmed some, groaned some, threw up in my mouth some, got bored a bit, and giggled like a ten-year-old more than I care to admit…
ADAM FRESCO
Honestly, it’s so wonderful to see a strong father figure depicted in a film. So often fathers are depicted as weak or unloving men, as opposed to vengeful, filthy, jealous, disco-loving, oiled-up murderers… If the name of this film even remotely appeals, get along!
MATTHEW CRAWLEY
Green Room
Following his debut Blue Ruin, Jeremy’s Saunier’s Green Room continues the director’s fascination with the causes and effects of violence, this time presented through the lens of a siege/ horror film. The thesis is the same as many fright flicks – desperate people are capable of horrible acts – but Saunier is careful to ensure that the skinhead villains are real people, not cartoons, and show that violence done to anyone is not badass, it’s horrible no matter who’s on the receiving end. A tightly scripted, knuckle-whitening thriller, I can only imagine what Saunier would do if he made a film with ‘red’ in the title.
TONY STAMP
Taut as razor wire, this is a low budget, lock-a-group-of-kids-in-a-confined-space-and-kill-them-off-one-by-one thriller that works. There’s a great turn by Patrick Stewart as the scary-ass white supremacists’ leader, with a neck so red it positively glows. It’s not uber-violent, but there are a couple of sudden, well-placed shocks, scares and splatters that should keep gore-hounds happy. As a simple premise, it’s expertly crafted, and what it lacks in depth, character development and insight, it makes up for in sheer tension-building suspense.
ADAM FRESCO
A premise as simple as ‘punk band musicians trapped in neo-Nazi bar fight for their lives’ might have you believing you’re in for gonzo-style fun in the vein of Johnny Rotten Vs Hitler. But this is not a careless film; it’s a careful surgeon that knows where to slice on the layers of reality and get under the skin. What we actually witness is a small group of broke millennials trying to survive and not cry (failing at both) while a menacingly cool and collected Patrick Stewart discusses with his scarily smart skinhead brothers the most efficient way to dispose of them. Green Room focuses purely on this situation’s intensity, squeezing every bit of it out like blood from a medical sponge.
LIAM MAGUREN
You don’t need to have spent time in the dingy back rooms of shitty music venues for Green Room to work its magic, but boy, that won’t hurt. Getting as much screen time out of the titular location as he can without feeling like a one-room play, Jeremy Saulnier’s follow-up to the excellent Blue Ruin again shows his knack for developing tension in a character-based film – as well as shocking the audience with sudden bursts of violence. Don’t miss this, it’s a rare five-star survival thriller.
STEVE NEWALL
The Handmaiden
A deliciously sordid tale from one of the greatest filmmakers of our time, this is a devilishly sexy and at times cringe-inducingly vicious tale of treachery in early 20th century Korea. It’s reminiscent of Im Sang-soo’s The Housemaid from the 2010 festival and just as brilliant, but Park Chan-wook’s film is more audacious and twisted. You may see some of the twists coming from a wee way off, but I can’t imagine many people being unsatisfied with how they play out.
DANIEL RUTLEDGE
Park Chan-wook subdues some of his visual flair while doubling down on his penchant for time-shifting and cross-cutting, all the better to serve a plot which has our sympathy switching from one character to the next. It’s the director’s sexiest film by far, but also his funniest, and he remains unafraid to follow the story to some very dark places. A spiritual sequel to Stoker, The Handmaiden is equally opulent and devilish.
TONY STAMP
Erotic thrillers aren’t usually this (intentionally) funny. As he pursues a narrative of constantly double-crossing con-man/woman intrigue, Park Chan-wook enjoys detours into both lesbian eroticism and laugh-out-loud moments – sometimes at the same time. Fellow Hitchcock thief Brian De Palma would be proud of this stylish mix of sleaze and swindle.
STEVE NEWALL
South Korean director Park Chan-wook, (Thirst, Stoker, Lady Vengeance, and the stunning Oldboy) cements his reputation as one of the most gifted visual storytellers in the world today. I was entranced, captivated and sucked in by a plot as twisted and surprising as the best Hitchcock had to offer. If you enjoyed the kinky shenanigans of the BBC TVs Fingersmith, wait till you get an eyeful of Chan-wook’s vibrant filmmaking masterclass, complete with arty violence, steamy sex and startling shocks.
ADAM FRESCO
The first third of Park Chan-wook’s latest plays its con-game storyline fairly straightforward. It was so by-the-numbers, in fact, that I started to believe it to be the first Chan-wook film where no fucked up shit happens. But fucked up shit does happen when the plot grows more twisted and the narrative itself twists perspectives, creating a triangular maze of swindle and sexuality that refuses to tell you who the cats and mice are – it’s enough to make Hitchcock blush (for multiple reasons).
LIAM MAGUREN
High-Rise
A movie-length descent into chaos, High-Rise reaches its low point about an hour in, then proceeds to wallow in it for the remainder of the film. So we get endless scenes of squalor and debauchery with most narrative frustratingly elided, and a few gobs of satire applied with a trowel here and there. It’s darkly funny and Wheatley is a dab hand at delivering trippy visuals, but this is his first misfire – too clumsy in its nihilism to land any real point. And if that IS the point, well, it’s not enough.
TONY STAMP
Ben Wheatley’s most accomplished film, I reckon, bringing Ballardian social collapse absurdity to the screen in surprisingly coherent fashion. There’s a reason no-one’s adapted this 41-year-old novel before, but in maintaining a retro-futuristic setting – the future as it may have seemed in 1975 – Wheatley’s found the best take on this fever dream of failed manners and niceties. As an adaptation, there’s not the sudden genre shift one associates with Wheatley’s prior work, but he;s found plenty to indulge himself in here, in what may be the best-looking film I’ve seen at the fest thus far.
STEVE NEWALL
Films that don’t give the audience much to make sense of their narrative with have to be very, very good in other areas. There’s a lot to admire in High-Rise – like the humour, the performances, the soundtrack, the ideas – but not enough to substantially make up for how nonsensical it is. I dig that this is a unique art film of the full chaos and complete anarchy type – not-to-mention thoroughly British. But with very little about the characters to maintain interest in them and ultimately not a great deal to add to the conversation about the class struggle it’s commenting on, it’s just a mildly enjoyable ride.
DANIEL RUTLEDGE
I loved Ben Wheatley’s Kill List, but like his other movies, High Rise feels too full of style over substance to win my admiration. A 1970s British movie homage, it riffs on darkly comic themes (think the brutal London of Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange, via the twisted social allegory of Lindsay Anderson’s if…). Much to admire but, despite a cool cast, stylish aesthetic and superb source material, it never engaged me beyond its flashy veneer of visual delights.
ADAM FRESCO
Based on an iconic novel that inspired countless sci-fi films, you’ve got to appreciate director Ben Wheatley for creating something that doesn’t feel like an imitation of the imitators. He paints his film with the sleazy tongue of the ‘70s, drenching the décor and the costumes with an eye-bulging amount of visual richness. That same richness could have been applied to the characters to elevate the eventual insanity that ensues, but even seeing these archetypes in anarchy proves to be a fun waterslide into capitalist hell.
LIAM MAGUREN
Hotel Coolgardie
Pete Gleeson’s camera is one of many flies on the walls of the remote shithole of a town two Finnish tourists arrive in, sight unseen, to tend bar for a few months. After the shock of seeing them treated as “fresh meat” by the leering drunk male population subsides, the doco goes on to revel in a bit more than just showing wasted people in less than flattering moments. Not that the culture shock for either the film’s main subjects or the viewer ever truly wears off in the face of Aussie males’ consistently punishing levels of intoxication and sleaze. Their vernacular too, oh boy. “Fuck me dead” indeed.
STEVE NEWALL
I, Daniel Blake
Ken Loach’s Kafka-esque nightmare of bureaucracy gone batshit crazy is a bleak, brutal and bloody infuriating journey through a dis-United Kingdom, and the death throes of the Welfare State. It’s a damning drama, lifted by touching humanity, humour and spirit, as embodied by Paul Laverty’s script and a committed cast acting their socks off. Tough, Brit-grit viewing, but essential for fans of Loach’s documentary-styled dramas holding a mirror up to modern social injustice, and state-sanctioned bureaucratic insanity of Monty Python proportions.
ADAM FRESCO
Hell is a bureaucratic filing cabinet full of good, honest people who cannot get out. That is essentially what I, Daniel Blake is saying on this guided tour through the agony of one older man who is denied a basic income because of an apathetic system that will not cater to his specific needs. Endless referrals, ridiculous quotas, goddamn automated phone messages – the banality of the system is humorous until these delays push him closer to poverty, sinking so far down into an uncomfortable reality that strikes too damn close to modern day New Zealand.
LIAM MAGUREN
The Innocents
A subtitled foreign drama covering a grim subject during the aftermath of World War II? It’s the ultimate film festival cliché, but The Innocents marks its ground simply by telling a unique story effectively. Shot with an unbreakable sturdiness that perfectly punctuates its characters, director Anne Fontaine turns a harrowing story about an “indescribable nightmare” into a fascinating statement about religious hypocrisy and a hopeful ode to human decency during the darkest of times.
LIAM MAGUREN
Land of Mine
Another year, another film about how darn shitty World War II was – but don’t mistake this for the same ol’ shit. Land of Mine shows you the uniquely harrowing reality many German teens suffered as the post-war clean-up crew of landmines scattered around Denmark’s beaches, kept under their incredibly pissed-off Danish sergeant. Grimness surrounds the film in a way that contrasts and emphasises the empathy growing within its hate-filled lead as he witnesses these kids facing their mortality; a moving, beautifully gradual arc that is as brilliant as the jump scares you will definitely feel every time one of those mines blow up.
LIAM MAGUREN
Life, Animated
Human psychology and animated children’s films are two very different things that connect with me on a personal level, like a spinal cord that brings fluency to my identity. I felt grateful that Pixar’s Inside Out brought my two interests together but now I just feel spoiled with the appearance of this hugely affectionate, ponderously observant look at an autistic man (same age as me) whose own identity is largely influenced by Disney films. It’s the first film of the festival to make my eyes go puffy.
LIAM MAGUREN
Lo and Behold: Reveries of the Connected World
A topic as broad as the world wide web doesn’t make the familiar detours, willful eccentricities and existential musings of Werner Herzog any less welcome, but perhaps blunts the impact or surprise of his hilarious tangents somewhat. Fear not – this is still trademark Herzog, a winning mix of profound and banal in introducing us to a wide range of faces and factoids. I shed tears twice – for one man’s love of a footballer robot, and for the father of an accident victim subjected to unimaginable awfulness.
STEVE NEWALL
German director Werner Herzog takes a dive deep into the possibilities opened by the internet. Ever the witty, warm and wise narrator, Herzog guides us through our connected world, from its origins, to possible futures. Eccentric, exciting and illuminating, this is a highly recommended musing on modern technology, as envisioned by experts from engineers, inventors, entrepreneurs and hackers, to NASA scientists, physicists and futurologists.
ADAM FRESCO
The Lure
You can say “Polish mermaid musical” over and over again as many times as you like, but it probably won’t prepare you for the enjoyment in watching this bonkers pic. To be fair, there are only a few traditional musical setpieces, with many of the other songs coming from performances in its nightclub setting. With plenty to laugh along with – or simply at – this is a crowd-pleaser, one that had me digging out the soundtrack as soon as I walked back in the door.
STEVE NEWALL
Ideally suited for Film Festivals and Incredibly Strange sections thereof, Agnieszka Smoczynska’s mad Polish mermaid musical The Lure features a pair of fish-tailed sisters who ditch a life of seducing men to their doom, in favour of performing at a seedy nightclub, luring punters with their siren song. Life is complicated by a bad habit of eating people, and the perils of falling in love with a human, in a surreal fable that never amounts to more than a bizarre B-movie that’s light on plot, but bulging with enough madness and kitsch visuals to entertain those seeking an original, off-the-wall, mermaid monster musical.
ADAM FRESCO
McCabe and Mrs. Miller
Robert Altman’s big fuck-you to Hollywood’s wild west sucks out the genre’s gunslinging machismo and mythic grandeur and replaces them with an affecting, bitterly funny, bracingly unromantic interrogation of capitalism and gender roles. Exquisite, transporting frontier poetry, wrought in the painterly astral-plane visions of Vilmos Zsigmond and the sublime melancholy of Leonard Cohen’s songs. Beatty and Christie on fire. 4K restoration at the Civic allows complete hypnotic immersion in the grubby, opium-haze texture of the milieu.
AARON YAP
Midnight Special
Jeff Nichols continues his rise as one of the most interesting American filmmakers of the decade with this mint indie sci-fi. It strikes a mighty fine balance keeping viewers in the dark about a lot of what they’re seeing, managing to do so in a way that amplifies the wonder of the supernatural, while not becoming frustrating. Great performances, great score, great cinematography and a gripping, rewardingly enigmatic story, this is my favourite Nichols yet.
DANIEL RUTLEDGE
Nichols keeps the vibe local, with the focus firmly on family, rather than the global stomping of an Independence Day. As the boy with the special gift, Jaeden Lieberher is great, but it’s Michael Shannon as his Dad who steals the show, ably supported by the likes of Kirsten Dunst, Joel Edgerton and Adam Driver, in smaller but crucial roles. Sadly, for me anyway, the pace drops and the third act underwhelms, but that still leaves a cracking two thirds of a sci-fi, chase-escape, family-bonding, mystery thriller, with excellent cinematography, great acting, interesting locations, and a script that at least dares to try to be a bit deeper than your average cineplex alien-invasion, dimension-hopping popcorn cruncher.
ADAM FRESCO
Jeff Nichols goes a bit Close Encounters here, but heading towards genre territory and a wider scope than fare like Mud has neither shaken his ability to capture intimate drama on screen, nor seen him resist casting Michael Shannon. Shannon is in man-on-a-mission mode, gruff determination suiting his screen presence, while Kirsten Dunst , Adam Driver and Joel Edgerton help boost the star count beyond Nichols’ prior films. While I enjoyed Midnight Special, it wasn’t quite everything I was hoping for – if it looks like it ticks your boxes, do check it out, but perhaps temper expectations.
STEVE NEWALL
It’s bloody refreshing to get a sci-fi that’s able to say so much about its world within the confines of a weekend-long car chase (that isn’t, ya know, Mad Max: Fury Road). Jeff Nichols has woven a mysterious plot that unravels to a hugely satisfying degree, like the finale of a great TV series that alludes to everything that happened in every previous episode. But those same limits force the audience to assume things that should not be left to assumption – namely, why we should be attached to these characters.
LIAM MAGUREN
The Music of Strangers
After the marathon of movie misery I’ve experienced at NZIFF and a post-Brexit newsfeed that can’t stop talking about countries that want to stay divided, I needed this film to remind me of the beauty that can bloom when cultures collaborate. Simple? Yes. Fluffy? Perhaps. But the musicians’ philosophies are clear, their motivation undeniable, and the music they create is – purely – rousing. The perfect companion piece to Poi E: The Story of Our Song.
LIAM MAGUREN
Nuts!
You’ve gotta love the subject of this doco – doctor does very well for himself by sewing “goat glands” into the male anatomy as an impotence aid, and popularises both kinds of music – country and western – as a side effect. How these things are linked is a true story that left me wondering exactly what weird shit is going on right now that we don’t know about. As a film, though, Nuts! is somewhat undone by a loose animation style that struck me as half-arsed, if not half-hearted.
STEVE NEWALL
One-Eyed Jacks
The only movie Marlon Brando directed (after Stanley Kubrick walked), and it’s a cracking revisionist Western, replete with Oedipal themes. Brando turns in a nuanced performance, but it’s Karl Malden’s crooked Sheriff who gets the best line: “You’ll get a fair trial, and then I’m gonna hang you.” Released 1961, I’ve only ever seen this on TV, but on the big screen the cinematography’s as cool as the star, in this slow-burn, character-driven, vengeance drama. A treat for genre fans.
ADAM FRESCO
Operation Avalanche
Found-footage has been given a much-needed side-lining over the last year or two, allowing Operation Avalanche to remind us how affective and goddamn enjoyable the technique can be. Going from a fish-out-of-water story to a race-against-the-clock comedy before finally contorting into a paranoia thriller with an ASTONISHING car chase, this film is a closed fist that clenches its wit and innovation, winds it up, and swings straight for the jaw. KO.
LIAM MAGUREN
Personal Shopper
Personal Shopper, how I wanted to love thee. Kristen Stewart is captivating here, whether tracking her amateur paranormal investigations, appointments at the chicest Parisian fashion houses on behalf of her awful client, arsing around on her phone, or experiencing ennui. Classic journey-not-the-destination fare, but the destination? Piss off.
STEVE NEWALL
Personal Shopper owes a debt to Polanski’s paranoid thrillers, following Kirsten Stewart’s descent into doubt and suspicion as she deals with events outside her comprehension. It’s tonally clunky as it jumps from ghost story to melodrama to thriller, but Stewart is great as our unreliable point of view, and it’s genuinely gripping as its mysteries unfold. The denouement is a bit slight, but for the most part Personal Shopper creates an atmosphere welcomely thick with foreboding.
TONY STAMP
Poi E: The Story of Our Song
What a way to launch the festival – with a great Kiwi movie celebrating a great Kiwi song. The story of ‘Poi E’, and the community of fascinating characters who spawned it makes for a surprisingly moving experience. The construction of this documentary isn’t always great – there’s weak segments that could’ve been trimmed; but there are plenty of moments of joy and reverence to warm your heart, all underpinned with a noble and subtle message about the importance of te reo Maori. Tino kino te pai!
DANIEL RUTLEDGE
The song Poi E is in our DNA and Tearepa Kahi’s doco on its origins and impact goes a long way to explaining why that’s the case. Do the irresistible charms of a single song make for a full-length feature? In this instance, the answer is “hell yes”, and the reply to “how much Poi E in a film is too much?” a solid “dunno actually, could have been a bit more”. Blending underdog tale from the music biz with themes of cultural identity, politics, whanau and the hilarity and horror of 80s Aotearoa, this is a winner.
STEVE NEWALL
To call this film a crowd-pleaser is an understatement (‘pleased’ is how the Queen feels when she receives a cup of Earl Grey at the right temperature). The crowd at the Civic during opening night were electrified by Tearepa Kahi’s cinematic celebration of our song that – wisely – becomes a celebration of our language, as well. Even though some of the more intriguing points felt brushed aside, it’s done in service of making The Story of Our Song an unstoppable joy with down-to-Earth interviewees and Kahi’s ability to visually match their warmth and playfulness.
LIAM MAGUREN
The Red Turtle
This gorgeous, elegant piece of storytelling left many around me delighted and a little hesitant to express what they took away from it. Let me give you mine:
*****VERY OBVIOUS SPOILER WARNING*****
He was never going to leave that island alive. The turtle knew this and destroyed the rafts that would have sent him to his doom. Stuck on that island for the rest of his days, the sympathetic turtle turned into a woman and made a vow to him: “I will stay with you, love you, raise a child with you, grow old with you.” He dies of old age – happy, content – and she returns to the ocean as a turtle, ending this bitter-sweet fairy tale about the inescapable nature of mortality. The crabs were funny, too.
LIAM MAGUREN
The Rehearsal
Actors, eh. The only thing worse are young people. Get off my lawn, coming-of-age actors! If you find watching young ones learn their craft amusing, and feel like being dismissive about movement exercises etc, you’ll have plenty of scoffing to do, like my nearby moviegoers. Instead, if watching a lead confidently struggle to emote and connect – as James Rolleston does in a lifelike portrayal of a young man still developing sense of self – this may intrigue. Thankfully less ‘craft’-oriented than expected, this is no heavy piece about the burden actors bear, but a watchable (if not incredible) story of being young and beginning to find one’s feet doing something you love.
STEVE NEWALL
I’m not the cultured kind of cat who reads books, but I could still sense the sacrifices The Rehearsal made to get Eleanor Catton’s novel to screen. A number of the side-characters and their various relationships feel undercooked, muffling the emotional punch of some of the story’s more significant turning points. But this slouch doesn’t stop Alison Maclean from grasping the adapted material by the shoulders, standing it upright, and directing one of the strongest ensemble performances New Zealand cinema has seen in the last few years.
LIAM MAGUREN
I really enjoyed Eleanor Catton’s debut novel, on which this film is based but, despite solid direction from Alison Maclean, the screenplay fails to capture that essential magic of the book. The acting is great, with James Rolleston, Kerry Fox, Ella Edward and the ensemble cast shining bright. Despite a solid central story, the characters never engaged me. The result (for me at least) is an entertaining, well-crafted tale that provides plenty of intellectual engagement, but never quite connects on an emotional level.
ADAM FRESCO
Suburra
Stefano Sollima, director of Gomorrah, delivers an offer any hardcore crime-film buff can’t refuse. I loved this deep, dark, neo-noir, Italian gangster classic, and one of the most operatic, violent, beautifully shot, toughly scripted, and powerfully acted crime-boss tales since Pacino slipped from Godfather to Scarface. Capisce?
ADAM FRESCO
Best Italian crime pic since Gomorrah holds the viewer in its taut, pit bull-strength grip for over two hours, taking us down the darkest recesses of the Roman elite. Familiar material – hot-headed gangsters, scummy politicians, embroiled in an escalating bloodbath of tit-for-tat even-scoring and power-grabs – but socko, splashy direction by Stefano Sollima and vividly portrayed characters make this one compellingly decadent tale. Leans too heavily on M83’s synth-smeared score, but I dig the echoes to Moroder circa Scarface’s “The World is Yours” blimp. Now looking forward to Sollima’s Sicario sequel.
AARON YAP
Swiss Army Man
If nothing else, Swiss Army Man is unique. A fable about being comfortable in your own body, even the gross parts, the best scenes involve the 2 leads goofing around in the woods. Luckily that’s most of the movie. Dano is great of course, but Radcliffe is a joy, proving himself a master at emoting while playing, well, a corpse. It’s not quite enough to sustain a whole movie, but the whimsy is so infectious it’s always fun, and it contains what have to be some of the most audacious fart & boner gags ever put onscreen.
TONY STAMP
Surprisingly fun, upbeat story of life, love, survival and the meaning of life, liberally sprinkled with fart gags, so bad taste it’s hard not to giggle like a big kid. The direction marks writer/director duo Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert as cinematic enfant terribles to watch. An effortless blend of buddy comedy, surreal escapism, lowbrow fart-fest and uplifting, existentialist adventure, it’s a shoe-in for cult status.
ADAM FRESCO
This is an extremely strong contender for best late night film of the fest and Aucklanders, at the very least, are treated to two late Friday showings, perfect for a few beers with your buds. There’s a lot more going on here than just Daniel Radcliffe playing a flatulent corpse, but make no mistake – a chunk of Swiss Army Man‘s magic is still due to Daniel Radcliffe playing a flatulent corpse. Great laughs, a lot of heart, and strong chemistry between Radcliffe and Paul Dano make this… a ripper.
STEVE NEWALL
Things to Come
As a fan of Mia Hansen-Løve’s Eden, I was looking forward to seeing how this film earned her Best Director at the Berlin. In Things to Come, she certainly handles the philosophical coming-of-middle-age material with the sturdiness of a veteran sea captain, as does her first mate Isabelle Huppert in prestigious form. But it’s light in conflict and thin on actual philosophy, resulting in a film so breezy it floats away with little more to say than “woman deals with life issues pretty well.”
LIAM MAGUREN
Toni Erdmann
Well, now I’ve seen a German comedy. It’s one that runs the gamut of prop laughs from fake teeth to fart cushions, embraces social awkwardness from the most minute to unexpected group nudity, and offers up the most gourmet jizz-eating of 2016 (pretty sure I can call this one now). Lengthy and character-driven, it’s not a Hollywood-style comedy, although I did glimpse a parallel universe (or dozed off for a millisecond) with a US remake starring Julia Roberts and Robert De Niro. If you do find your attention flagging – which shouldn’t happen often – looking at the structural similarities and dissimilarities with American genre brethren doesn’t stop being interesting, a fully committed take on Whitney Houston being a prime example of cultures’ differing comedic sensibilities.
STEVE NEWALL
German writer-director Maren Ade’s comic treat features a father who, desperate to reconnect with his adult daughter, dons a mad wig and crazy dentures, in a half-cocked plan to invade her life. An initially meandering pace lays the narrative groundwork, earning audience investment in its characters as real people, complete with hilarious faults, foibles and fantasies. Farcical, laugh-out-loud funny, touching, sentimental, Toni Erdmann brings the words “German” and “comedy” together with a raucous, jubilant, twisted and hugely welcome wallop of wunderba!
ADAM FRESCO
I never thought a comedy could sustain itself for over two-and-a-half hours, and the first leisurely hour of Toni Erdmann had me nervously believing I would still be right. But a rolling snowball always starts off small and slow before it grows into a speeding wrecking ball, which is the perfect way to describe this film’s comedic impact. That final 45 minutes had more wickedly funny, out-of-nowhere humour than any non-animated film I’ve seen in quite some time.
LIAM MAGUREN
A Touch of Zen
King Hu’s 3-hour, 1971 martial arts extravaganza, rocks on the big screen. Fully restored to pristine glory, with landscapes worthy of a Sergio Leone Western, or a Kurosawa Eastern. Its labyrinthine plot, of Shakespearian splendor, covers the lot, from love story to revenge tragedy. All acted superbly in an aesthetically stunning, grippingly told action, adventure, kung-fu drama, which surprisingly features precious few fight scenes. But when the fights breaks out? They’re bloody fantastic.
ADAM FRESCO
Under the Shadow
Taut psychological horror gets plenty of mileage from its Tehran apartment setting and mother-daughter leads. Hemmed in on all sides by post-revolution treatment of women, life under bombardment during the Iran-Iraq war, and a bloody supernatural entity to boot, there’s plenty of horror to behold, in more than trad genre terms. I got repeated goosebumps and sank fingernails into my arms; my pal dished out some impressive screams. That’s the review proper right there.
STEVE NEWALL
Unlocking the Cage
Unfortunately not as remarkable a case of filmmaking as its subjects frequently turn out to be, Unlocking the Cage follows a quixotic-seeming legal campaign to recognise certain intelligence as deserving the legal status of ‘non-human person’. It’s awe-inspiring to see the chimpanzee intelligence and personality on offer, and heartbreaking to see their mistreatment. This footage should win anyone over, the legal campaign – perhaps not so much. Food for thought, absolutely, but no slam-dunk in real-life outcome or audience advocacy.
STEVE NEWALL
A War
After the brilliant documentary Armadillo on Danish soldiers serving in Afghanistan, that has the camera right in beside troops during firefights and all, you may wonder what more could be said on the deployment with a work of fiction. A War resoundingly declares there’s much more indeed. It’s half war film, half court procedural in which one specific rule of engagement must be explored and proven. This in turn asks of the audience one huge ethical question about modern combat in civilian-populated areas, and although the film certainly seems to favour one side over the other, it’s easy as an audience member to feel differently. Either way it’s an important consideration and coming to it via great performances and great direction is both informative and entertaining, although not hugely so.
DANIEL RUTLEDGE
Weiner
Directors Josh Kriegman and Elyse Steinberg’s portrait of disgraced New York Congressman Anthony Weiner, as the wheels come off his Mayoral campaign, marriage, and mind, due to his penchant for, er, dick pics. The filmmakers’ access is amazing. At one point, they even ask Weiner why he’s allowing them to keep shooting! A fabulously entertaining, gobsmackingly embarrassing, so-mad-it-must-be-true portrait of megalomania, hubris, the modern sex-obessed media circus and yes, ultimately, a guy called Weiner who likes to take pix of his junk.
ADAM FRESCO
A couple years after the furore around an unwise crotch tweet had died down, former US Congressman Anthony Weiner attempted to run for the mayor of New York City. This is a ‘fly on the wall’ documentary of that time. The filmmakers could easily have played the whole film for laughs owing to Weiner’s unfortunate last name, his somewhat artless mannerisms, and of course the ridiculous nature of his scandal(s) but they do not. They dispense with the obvious in the first few minutes after which they point out that Weiner as far as being a politician goes has been a fairly righteous individual sticking up for the working class and as a human is quite likeable really. Superbly edited and directed the film is a prime example of truth being stranger than fiction – as the film progresses things just get crazier and crazier. I won’t spoil anything but this is well worth a watch.
ALAN HOLT
Wild
Nicolette Krebitz’s gamely erotic, wickedly perverse masterwork of human-beast transgression exists in that difficult-to-master nether-region between taboo-breaking arthouse and fabulist horror. Sort of like fan/fap-fiction for anyone who thinks direwolves would make cuddly hang-buddies and weren’t so CGI-looking all the time. Lilith Stangenberg’s evolution from mousy cubicle nobody to… well… just wait.. is one of the most thrilling character transformations in quite some time. Funny, disturbing and poignant on so many levels, it’s this year’s NZIFF discovery, a one-of-a-kind urban fairy tale whose dedication to the unconstrained reaches of female agency and pleasure is as fearless as it is refreshing.
AARON YAP
Leading the charge for what-the-fuck moments so far in the festival, Wild‘s er, wilder, moments are in keeping with the lead’s character arc, but nevertheless dominate the film in hindsight. There’s stuff here you won’t be able to unsee, which is totally fine, but I felt the broader themes got a bit lost in the magnificent grotesquerie.
STEVE NEWALL
One of the most beautiful and bizarre love stories I’ve seen in quite some time, this is a thoroughly unique and fascinating work of art. A potently feminine tale about loneliness and liberation, it’d be best to go in knowing absolutely nothing if possible. Discovering this film on the big screen with the gasps and nervous giggles of an afternoon audience is one of the better experiences of this year’s festival.
DANIEL RUTLEDGE
In which we learn why landlords have those “No pets allowed” clauses in their contracts. This German delight lives up to its name, slowly but shockingly surely. Reese Witherspoon fans beware, this is a different Wild…
MATTHEW CRAWLEY
Zero Days
Alex Gibney’s documentary busts open the Pandora’s box that is the computer virus created to take down the Iranian nuclear program. Only now it’s out there, it doesn’t feel like stopping. Mixing expert testimony, interviews and analysis, this insight into cyber warfare, virtual politics, and digital morality is chock full of scary real world implications for everyday folk who rely on computers for everything, from fresh water and traffic lights, to communication systems and power grids. You’ll either be terrified or wearing your Mr Robot t-shirt with nervous pride…
ADAM FRESCO
Master secrecy-busting documentarian Alex Gibney quickly shows us the frustrating stonewalling that impedes his hunt for the truth behind the mysterious StuxNet worm, seemingly developed as a joint US-Israeli cyber-weapon to thwart Iran’s nuclear program. In probing the worm’s origins with one eye on the implications for a new, online, battleground, Gibney’s film takes one on a thrilling ride of bleeding-edge technology and sci-fi espionage. In other words, yes, it is also chilling. And Gibney doesn’t allow himself to be kept in the dark for long.
STEVE NEWALL
